


Battling Temptation by BCW

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three days temptation of look, but can't touch, followed by a series of false starts and missed opportunities, coupled with a rich young stud who has a eye for Blair and a total disregard for the Tenth Commandment.  You get the picture. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battling Temptation by BCW

All pre-existing characters are the property of the respective creators and producers of "The Sentinel." No copyright infringement is intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and responsibility of the author. 

Rated NC-17 for m/m sex and language. 

## Battling Temptation and the Tenth. . .

by BCW  
04/10/97  


Ellison stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a jaundiced eye. Damn, when, where did all the grey come from? Jim ran his fingers through the coarse hair and felt a sharp twinge in his shoulder. Owww, he ached in most of his major joints. Is this what age did to you? The face in the mirror stared back with red rimmed eyes. He hardly recognized himself. When was the last time he had a restful night's sleep? Seemed a lifetime ago. He remembered when he could pull a stake out for weeks without blinking an eye, now three days of constant surveillance in that van with Blair and two other officers, the smell alone nearly drove him mad. 

Well, now freshly showered, at least he felt almost human again. 

He heard Blair singing in the kitchen as he made breakfast, some old sultry blues song about unrequited love. Here he was nearly comatose from lack of sleep and the kid was just getting his second wind. Jim reached for the razor and felt another twinge. Damn! 

"Hey, old man, your breakfast's getting cold!" 

Blair's voice startled him from his inspection. He turned. His lover stood in the doorway dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks, tie hanging loose around his neck. 

"Come here and I'll show you old," Jim growled as he put the razor away. 

Blair smiled mischievously at the challenge and stepped eagerly into Jim's embrace. 

Their kisses started soft and tender, filled with love and promise, but three days of close quarters without being able to touch each other soon ignited a tinderbox of unbridled passion. Avid fingers began tearing urgently at clothing. Jim's towel became a puddle at his feet. Anxious hands encircled rapidly hardening cocks. Tongues became desperately seeking conquest. 

Suddenly, Jim tore his mouth away from Blair's to pant: "What is that noise?" 

"Noise?," Blair echoed breathlessly trying to reconnect with Jim's mouth as he attempted to fuse their bodies together. "I don't hear any. . ." Then the high pitched beeping pierced his sex-fogged senses. "Damn!" He released Jim so abruptly he stumbled backward, slightly off balance. 

Jim put out a steadying hand to his Guide's elbow to keep him from falling. "What's wrong?" 

Blair shook his head as he pushed the button on his watch, shutting off the alarm. "Damn!" He swiftly ran his hands through his hair, gathering it in a ponytail, grabbing a band from the shelf of the cabinet over the toilet, quickly securing it. 

"Say, Chief? We were in the middle of something. . ." 

Blair looked at Jim, those expressive eyes of his full of love, lust, pledges, but most of all apologies. "We're going to have to finish this later." 

"What?" 

He gave him a quick, hard kiss before bounding from the bathroom. 

Jim followed in a disbelieving daze. "What?" 

"Sorry, Big Guy." Blair said as he disappeared into his old bedroom, now office. 

"What?" Jim said as he staggered down the stairs. 

Blair popped back into the room at high speed. "The Anthro Department's started a new chair search. Remember, I told you about it?" He said as he stuffed several books in his backpack while struggling into a sports coat. 

"What?" 

"Dr. Davenport asked me to help with the Search Committee." 

Jim was standing in the middle of the room, naked and confused, with a rapidly diminishing erection. "What?" 

"They're meeting in an hour." 

"What?" 

Blair stopped at the front door to retrieve his keys and looked back fondly at his flustered soul mate. He smiled at the expression of bewilderment on his face. "I'll make it up to you, lover. I promise. Your breakfast is on the table. Clean your plate, and get some sleep. You'll need your strength for tonight." He blew him a kiss and was gone. 

The Sentinel stood rooted powerless to that spot as he tried to process the past few minutes' events. He could only stare cluelessly at the closed door and whisper. "What?"  
  


* * *

  


Jim slapped at the annoying insect intruding on a warm, wet dream involving a long-haired professor tied spread-eagle and helpless to the four posts of a huge bed. He was stripped bare and pleading for succor, trying unsuccessfully to hide a delighted smile, as Jim crawled up that luscious body with a look of apt determination on his face. . . 

Half-awake, he snatched the phone from its cradle and snarled. "Ellison!" 

"Easy, detective, I'm just the messenger." 

"This better be a life or death situation, Coles," he growled into the receiver. "Or its going to be a matter of life or death." 

"Captain asked me to remind you about tonight's banquet." 

"What?" Sleep deprivation was reducing his communication skills to words of two syllables or less. If he didn't get some sleep soon, his dialogue would be reduced to growl and grunts. 

"Councilor Evers' gala victory banquet. Tonight. Eight o'clock. Cascade PD's pulling security? Remember?" 

Officer Coles pulled the receiver away from his ear and looked at it, puzzled. He didn't know Ellison owned a guard dog, a vicious one from the sound of that snarl. "Detective?" He said, tentatively. 

"All right, Coles!" 

Coles' ear rang for about an hour after Jim slammed the received down.  
  


* * *

  


Naturally, the Fates deemed it impossible to reach Blair by phone. Jim left messages everywhere he could, hoping his Guide would come in for a landing long enough to pick up one and read it. Blair came swooping into the loft at 6:48 p.m. Throwing his keys in the basket and his pack on the floor, he launched himself into Jim's startled arms while attaching himself to his face in a self-sealing lip lock with the power of a Hoover, before Jim could utter a word. 

The Sentinel spent the next few minutes fending off determined fingers attempting to divest him of his clothing while trying to strip his partner of his and free his mouth to explain that, unfortunately, they had different agendas. 

Finally, in frustration, Blair released his mouth. "You are so *not* helping me, Jim!" He complained as Jim batted his hands away from the studs on his shirt, before switching tactics by attaching suction to the sensitive flesh of Jim's neck, just below his ear. High voltage currency seemed to flow from the connection, nearly robbing him of coherent thought. 

His lover's mouth and tongue immediately drew the attention of his much neglected cock causing it to respond with near comical expedience to the promise that mouth made. Jim was a heartbeat away from telling the Councilor and his captain to take a flying leap and cashing in on that pledge. 

"Damn!" He growled, then pinned Blair's arms behind his back. "Stop! Blair! Babe, we don't have time for this!" 

Blair blinked owlishly. "What?" 

"We can't do this right now." 

"Not now?! But I've been *thinking* about this *ALL* day!" Blair whined, struggling against Jim's imprisonment. "I couldn't concentrate at the meeting!" He wiggled suggestively. Pressing his erection against the hardness of Jim's thigh. "I don't even *remember* what I said to my class. I graded papers through lunch so I'd have this evening free, all while thinking about what I was going to do to you when I got home! Jim!" He pleaded as the tip of a pink tongue slipped out to moisten the fullness of a lower lip before it disappeared into that dark. . .warm. . . wet cavern, and Jim felt his penis surge forward with jealous eagerness. He could almost hear it whine, beg, plead, (No! Me! Hide and seek! I want to play!') 

"Are you mad at me about running off this morning, lover? I am SO sorry! Let go of my arms and I'll show you how sorry I am." He wiggled again. "Jim." He purred enticingly. 

Ellison nearly lost the battle right there. He took a deep breath, intending to refortify himself and realized his mistake one second too late. His lungs filled with the essence of Blair and it exploded across his nerve endings, searing him. Hot Blair. Willing Blair. Aroused Blair. Wanton Blair. Love. Lust. Want. Need. Three days, no four days without Blair had made him ravenous. Three days of him teasing all his senses had made him wild. Just within reach, but because of other officers on the operation, light years away. 

"Damn!" Fate had a cruel sense of humor. "We have to be at a banquet downtown in less than an hour." 

"What? Is this a joke? That is *so* not funny, man!" 

"Councilor Evers. Come on, babe." He turned his mate toward the stairs and pushed him forward. "If you don't get it in gear we're going to be late and Simon'll have my head." 

He dug in his heels like an angry child and refused to budge. "No!" 

Jim stopped pushing. 

Blair turned around and took his first good look at his heart mate. Jim wore a stunning black tux. The white silk shirt clung to every muscle of his chest and the coat accentuated and defined every curve of his arms and shoulders. He looked good enough to eat without knife, fork, plate or napkin. 

"Jim," he pleaded. "We got ten minutes, don't we?" 

He shook his head while battling with temptation again. "It took me almost forty-five minutes to get dressed and I don't have as much hair as you. You have exactly thirty minutes to shower, shave and get into the tux laid out on the bed." He turned him back toward the stairs and swatted him hard on the bottom to get him moving. 

Blair started blindly up the steps, absently rubbing at the sting of the spank. 

"And, Blair. . ." 

He stopped, half-turning back to look at Jim. 

"If you come back down those steps in any state besides *fully* dressed in that tux, I will shoot you with my spare gun." 

Blair stuck his tongue out at him before resuming his journey up the stairs. Damn, he was going to have to remember to research into the possibility of a psychic connection between Sentinel and Guide. This mind reading stuff was getting eerie. 

Twenty-seven minutes later Blair exacted his revenge by successfully completing his Sentinel's instruction. 

Jim was standing at the front door, anxiously checking his watch. He looked up at Blair's approach and went still. 

"Well. . .how do I look?" Blair asked, his face a mask of feigned innocence. 

Jim swallowed hard, his head and shoulders slumping in defeat. All his good intentions out the window. . .this was NOT going to work. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. "Yes, this is Detective Ellison, Cascade Police Department, I need a cab at 852 Prospect. . .Could you put a rush on that? This is police business. . .Thanks." He glanced up, then away. "They'll be here in ten minutes." 

"I can't ride with you in the truck?" 

Jim picked up his keys and coat. "No." He hissed angrily. 

"Why not?" 

Ellison's look asked if he'd lost his mind. "We'd never get there." He opened the door, paused, reached in his pocket for his wallet, took out several bills and put them in the basket on top of Blair's keys. 

Blair took a step forward. 

Jim pointed at him with a finger that trembled slightly. "No, you stay right there." He turned his gaze fully on him. 

Blair froze like a deer in headlights. The intensity of the look in Jim's eyes blazed through his bloodstream, branding him. 

"When this thing is over, I'm ripping the phone out of the wall." His voice was dark and low, each word precise. "Then I'm going to lay you across that bed like a buffet and glut myself like a starving man." He drew an agitated breath. "I promise to make love to you so intense we'll be lucky if we can walk when I finish." 

He shut the door on his way out. 

Blair swallowed hard, pulling his collar away from his neck to release the sudden wave of heat. That went well.  
  


* * *

  


Half-hidden in the shadows on the far side of the banquet hall, a figure leaned idly against one of the elaborate Grecian pillars that reached from floor to ceiling. Motionless except for an occasional restless shift, he nursed the drink in his hand and scoped out the room. 

Justin Evers hated these boring political social affairs. He wouldn't have attended this one if not literally dragged here by his hair. 

Unconsciously tracking the athletic figure of Councilor Evers' chief aide and confidante, thirty-eight year old Patrick Edward Choate, Justin whistled silently to himself in admiration. . . the man could fill out a tux! (But then, to the young Evers', his father's aide would look good in anything, or nothing at all!) Thick, black lashes framing chocolate-brown eyes were the most expressive features in that rugged, granite-like face, and lately they were the stuff his dreams were of. . . 

"Bored, Justin?" 

He turned, the object of his torment stood next to him. "Out of my skull, Paddy." 

Choate smirked. One year shy of thirty years old, spoiled, willful, Councilman Evers' only child seemed locked in a constant state of boredom. Justin glanced at him briefly before returning his gaze to the room and Patrick felt the pull of those mesmerizing grey-green eyes. This man was too handsome for his own good. 

Patrick smiled as Justin pushed a stray hair back behind his ear. The jet black, waist length locks twisted into a braid then tortured into a club at the back of his head, secured by a wide gold band. He usually wore it loose which only added to his exotic allure. Choate longed to wrap himself in the ebony mass, wondering if it was as soft as it looked. 

Racing through his adult life, Justin had just started to attempt discretion since his father's appointment to office. Afraid if he upset his father now and the money would stop. If the money stopped, the lifestyle he'd become accustomed to stopped and little Justin didn't want that. 

His father might be fooled, but Choate knew nothing changed. He'd had to clean up Justin's messes more than once. They'd been harmless so far, mostly minor indiscretions, jilted lovers. 

The diamond stud in his ear mocked him. Justin was a free spirit in search of the next greatest pleasure, the next greatest thrill. And Justin Evers didn't seem to care where that pleasure came from, or from whom. He was looking for something, or someone. Choate desperately wanted that someone to be him. But he wanted to be more than a passing fling. Heaven help him, he loved the brat, not that it'd do him any good. He was his daddy's hired help. Justin didn't know anything or care about anything beyond that. Indispensable, discreet, efficient, but still an employee. 

He sighed. It didn't hurt to dream. 

Suddenly, Justin perked up. "Hel-lo." 

He followed Evers' line of sight. 

"What have we here?" 

Ok, so the kid had good taste. 

"Who is he, Paddy?" 

Choate flipped though his mental Rolodex of who's who and came up empty. "Sorry." He said, not sounding sorry at all. 

"I thought you knew everybody." There was that infamous Justin 'give me my way' pout. 

"This one got by me." Choate shrugged, noncommittally. "He must be someone's date." 

"Damn, I hope not." Justin licked his lips. "Looks like he's alone. If he were with me, I wouldn't let him out of my sight." 

Just then, a predatory-looking male, filling out a tux deliciously, approached. The two smiled at each other. 

"You know *him*?" 

Choate nodded. "Detective James Ellison. Cascade Police. Ex-military. Extremely impressive credentials." 

"You think they know each other?" 

"If they don't, they will. You can cook meat with the looks they're giving each other." (Wish you'd look at me with half that heat.) 

"Who cares about that! I don't want to *keep* him, Paddy." 

"You never do." He said dryly, under his breath. 

Evers continued, not hearing the comment. "I just want to use him for this evening." 

"Detective Ellison might have something to say about that." 

"Then we just won't tell Detective Ellison, will we, Paddy?" 

Choate caught Evers' arm as he started forward. "Justin, no." 

His captive raised an eyebrow. "No?" He shook off the touch. "No?" And snorted derisively. "Get real, Paddy." Then walked away. 

Not wanting the object of his desire to die alone, Choate followed at a discreet distance. 

Blair had just made the comment, "Delicious." As he picked something up from the buffet. 

"Yeah, it's quite a spread." Jim surveyed the table. "The Councilor's people seemed to have pulled out all the stops." 

"I wasn't talking about the food." Blair murmured as he took the hors d'oeuvre delicately from his fingers with his teeth. Jim watched helplessly as it disappeared into the darkness aided by a flick of his tongue. "There's only one thing I'd like to have in my mouth right now." He licked cocktail sauce from his fingers like a cat after cream. 

Jim's professional smile faltered a moment, then righted itself. He leaned close to Sandburg's ear. "Stop it right now!" He hissed sharply. 

"What?" He blew a puff of superheated air into Jim's ear canal. 

Jim stiffened but didn't pull away. "Sandburg," He whispered harshly, "You give me a hard on here and I swear. . ." 

"Detective Ellison?" 

Jim straightened abruptly trying to keep the flush from his face. He'd been concentrating on Blair and hadn't heard the two men approach. 

Choate stepped forward. "Detective Ellison, this is Justin Evers, Councilor Evers' son. Justin wanted to meet you." 

Jim shook his hand. "Mr. Evers." 

"I just wanted to compliment you on the fine work you're doing here." 

"Thank you." 

But Justin wasn't looking at Jim anymore, his eyes were on Blair. 

Jim took the hint. "This is my partner, Blair Sandburg." 

Justin clasped his hand warmly. "Pleased to meet you, Officer Sandburg, or are you a detective, too? You don't look like a police officer." 

"Blair, please. And actually, I'm not. I'm a grad student." 

Jim stepped a little closer, looking pointedly at their still clasped hands. Blair's lips curved in a tiny smile as he gently extricated his hand from Justin's grasp. 

Choate relaxed a little. So they did know one another. 

"Professor Sandburg is on loan to us from Ranier University in an advisory capacity." 

"Hmmm. You don't look much like a college professor, either." 

"Jim." Officer Coles came up on their right. "Captain wants you downstairs." 

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Duty calls." 

"Need me to come, Jim?" The mischievous smile was back. 

Jim gave him a look that said he was going to pay dearly for this. "That's the plan, partner." He smiled, he could play this game, too. 

Blair was clearly delighted with the exchange, but remembered his manners at the last minute. "It was a pleasure meeting you." 

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you. I hope I'll see you later, before the party ends." 

Blair nodded briefly before following Jim's rapidly retreating form. 

"What're you up to, Justin?" Patrick Choate asked suspiciously. 

"What makes you think I'm up to anything?" 

"I know that look." 

"You've got me all wrong, Paddy." 

('That's the problem, Justin, I don't have you at all,') Choate thought sadly. "He's taken, you know." 

"I'm not blind. Even more reason to have him. No messy entanglements. We have a few hours fun and each goes our separate ways. No one the wiser." 

"Detective Ellison doesn't seem the type to share." 

"I'm not sharing, I'm just borrowing." 

"Suppose the Professor doesn't want to be borrowed?" 

"Hey, who can resist *me*?" He smiled brightly before sauntering off. 

('I only know I can't,') Choate thought right before turning to go in the opposite direction.  
  


* * *

  


Three nights of restless sleep and two glasses of champagne were causing Blair to sway on his feet. He glanced anxiously at Jim hoping he hadn't seen. No, he was talking to Simon. They had almost two more hours to go, but the crowd was starting to thin. He was exhausted. Maybe he could find some place to curl up, catch a few minutes sleep. 

Blair eased from the room. 

"Sneaking off from the festivities?" 

He jumped, turning to face Justin Evers. 

"Jim's busy talking to his captain. He doesn't need me right now." 

"You look tired." 

Blair rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been a *long* week." 

"Not enjoying yourself?" 

Blair shook his head. "These things *bore* me." 

"I know how you feel. Say, want to duck out? I know this place that plays great music." 

Blair shook his head again. "I'd better not. Jim wanted to go straight home after this." 

"Your detective sounds a little over possessive." 

Blair shrugged. "I wanted to go straight home, too." 

"He got something special planned for the two of you?" 

Blair looked at him. "You'd have to ask him about that." 

"No, I don't. It shows on his face when he looks at you." 

"Kind of like the way you and Paddy look at one another?" 

Justin looked shocked . "Paddy? Me? I don't think so." 

"Why not? Because you're political royalty and he's the hired help?" 

"You think I'd look down on him because of that?" 

"Do you?" 

"No. The problem isn't me. Mr. Choate wouldn't give me the time of day if it wasn't for his job. To him, I'm just a nuisance." 

"I used to think that way about my situation. Wasted a lot of valuable time playing games when I didn't have to." 

Justin eyed him speculatively. "So what did you do?" 

"I told him how I felt." 

"No. No, I couldn't do that." Choate was across the room talking to his father and the assistant mayor. Justin watched him with hungry eyes. 

"Why not?" 

He looked back at Blair. "I don't handle rejection very well." 

"And you think he'd reject you?" 

"If I confessed my feelings, Patrick Edward Choate would probably laugh in my face." 

"That's a little harsh, don't you think?" 

"Say, I don't want to talk about this anymore. OK?" He looked back at Choate a moment. "I tell you what! I rented a suite on the seventeenth floor, just in case I was too blitzed to drive home. You're welcome to crash up there for a while." 

Blair hesitated. "Thanks, Justin, but. . ." 

Justin pressed the key into his hand. "Here, you go on up, I'll find your partner and tell him where you are, then come up to join you. I've got some great music up there, we can listen to CDs and relax until its time to go. OK?" 

Blair was *really* tired. So tired it was hard to think and the offer sounded so tempting. "OK."  
  


* * *

  


Suite? This room was huge. The carpet, so thick it was sinful. Blair walked around taking inventory: stocked bar, elaborate bedroom, enormous bed. Oh, to have money! Well, maybe someday he and Jim would. . . He blinked away visions of him and his Sentinel, naked and sweaty, stretched out on that football field-sized bed and turned back into the main room. 

Justin was standing there. 

"Damn, man. I didn't hear you come in! You almost gave me a heart attack." 

"Sorry. Your partner said he'd be up to get you when he's done. Stay put." 

Blair smiled. "That sounds so like him." 

"Yeah, Paddy orders me around like that sometimes." Justin laughed. "So, take your coat and shoes off. When I left he was getting very heavy into that police thing so it might be a while." 

Blair shed the articles of clothing and sank deep in the plushness of the couch. He moaned with pleasure. 

"Blair?" 

He looked up. Justin was offering him. . . 

Blair's eyes grew round as saucers as he sat up, holding both hands in front of him defensively. "Whoa, man, are you out of your mind?! My partner's a *cop*, remember?! A highly *anal* cop! A *big*, highly anal cop with a short fuse about this kind of stuff! If he even gets a whiff of that. . .!" 

"Blair, chill! He's seventeen floors below us. . ." 

"He might as well be in the next room! Jim's got like finely-tuned radar when it comes to me, truth, man! Come on, Justin, get rid of that! With my luck, he's zeroing in on us right now." 

"Are you paranoid, or what? Don't worry! So what if he catches us, Paddy'll take care of it. Paddy *always* takes care of it." 

"That may be fine for you, but it won't help me! Just put it away, OK? *WAY* away. Like next county away!" 

Justin paused defiantly, but the look on Blair's face made him finally relent and take his stash to the other room. When he returned, he'd taken off his coat, shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his trousers. "Do you want a drink, then? He won't mind that, will he?" 

Blair shook his head. "Had too much already." 

"Coffee?" 

"It's kinda late." 

"I have this Turkish blend, you've got to try." He paused, assessing his guest. "Or maybe a latte?" 

Blair brightened. "Latte?" 

"Mocha, extra cream?" 

"I don't want to put you to any trouble." 

"No trouble at all, Blair."  
  


* * *

  


An hour later, the edges of Blair's world had definitely begun to soften and blur. "I must've been more tired than I thought." He looked up. When had Justin moved? "Justin?" 

He was leaning over him, unbuttoning his shirt. "It's all right, Blair." He said soothingly as he began kissing down his jawline. 

Blair pushed at his chest. When did his arms become so heavy? "No, Justin." His tongue! What happened to his tongue? It felt numb and swollen. Information was becoming difficult to process. "You drugged me!" 

"Just a little something to help you relax." He said as he kissed down his neck. "You are so beautiful. We are going to have so much fun." 

"Aww, Justin." He pushed at him again. 

"Come on, Blair, you can't tell me you don't want to." 

"Yes, I *can*!" 

"I don't believe you." 

"You don't *want* to believe me!" He felt as if he were moving through syrup. 

"Is it about that feral cop of yours? Are you afraid of him?" 

"Yes, it's about Jim. No, I'm not afraid." It was getting harder to make complete sentences. "We are *committed*, Justin!" 

"You don't think he cheats on you?" 

"I KNOW he doesn't!" 

"Bull, nobody's committed anymore!" He tried again to nibble down Blair's neck. "They're in it for what they can get out of it!" 

"Paddy wouldn't cheat! He would commit! And so would you, if you gave it a chance." 

His words were making him uncomfortable. He tried to shut him up with kisses, but Blair turned his head to the side. "Come on, Blair!" 

"No. . .Jim. . ." 

"Jim's downstairs. He's doing his cop thing. It'll be hours before he even misses you." 

Blair felt fingers at his zipper and panicked. "No, Justin!" He began to squirm. His struggles letting Justin's body slip between his open legs. His erection brushing against the crotch of Blair's trousers. "Why are you *doing* this?! If it's to make Paddy jealous, there are other ways that don't involve hurting me!"  
  


* * *

  


Downstairs, Jim was placing his fourth politician in a cab. It was nearly over. There were only a few left. The assistant major and Councilor had both gone home. He came back in the banquet hall and stopped. He scanned the room, frowning. 

"Detective Ellison." 

He turned to watch Choate stride toward him. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Yes. . .I. . ." Then he knew what was bothering him. "Have you seen my partner?" 

Patrick hesitated for an instant. "Perhaps he went home. . ." 

"No, not without telling me." 

"He could've left a message with one of the other officers." 

Jim fixed his gaze on Choate. "We had plans. He wouldn't leave without telling me unless something was wrong." 

The meaning was clear. It was worse than he thought. Edward knew for certain now he couldn't save Justin from this man if he were up to what he suspected. No amount of the Councilor's money or power would stop Ellison if Blair was hurt in any way. If he could distract him then get upstairs to stop them. "Perhaps he's outside getting some air. . ." 

Jim immediately noticed the accelerated heartbeat, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, he even smelled his fear. Jim scanned the room again, opening his senses. Someone else was missing. "Where's Justin?" 

The aide jumped visibly. "Justin?" 

Jim stepped in closer. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing at, Choate, but if you know where sonnyboy is you'll tell me now." He paused. "Don't make me take this hotel apart," he added softly. 

"I. . ." 

Jim turned and stalked toward the reception desk. He flashed his badge. "The Councilor, does he have rooms in the hotel?" He said harshly. 

The clerk blinked once before recovering and typing into the terminal. "No, sir." 

"His son, Justin?" 

More typing. "He has a suite on the seventeenth floor." 

"Number." 

"Seventeen forty-four." 

Jim was gone, followed frantically by Aide Choate. Patrick caught up with him at the elevator. He slid in just as the doors were about to close. 

"Detective Ellison. . ." 

"Did you know?" 

"Detective Ellison. . ." 

"If you did, I'll take you apart when I finish with daddy's little darling." 

Now Choate slipped into defensive mode. "Know what? That they went upstairs together? Two consenting adults feel an attraction to one another? Blair's a grown man. . ." 

His flow of words interrupted as Jim picked him up by the lapels and slammed him hard against the back of the elevator. 

"There are unalterable truths in the universe, Choate. One of them is Blair's commitment . . ." He couldn't go on, he didn't have to explain anything to this man. 

"How do you know, Ellison? Justin's a very attractive young man." 

The word young burned across Jim's senses. Yes, Evers was attractive and he was young. A moment of doubt gripped him. Could Blair have. . .Why would he want an old dinosaur like him? Then he remembered just a few hours ago, Blair teasing him mercilessly, sensuously, promising. . .that was not an act! 

He released Choate letting him slide down the wall to his feet. 

As the elevator doors opened and Jim stepped out, he heard Blair's voice, soft, strange, urgent, fading. 

Jim saw the color red before putting his shoulder to the suite's door. It separated from the frame like it was made of plywood. 

When he entered the room, he saw Justin leaning over his partner, struggling with Blair's clothes. One glance at the stricken look on Blair's face, Jim caught Justin by the scruff of the neck and threw him aside. He landed hard against the opposite wall with a resounding thud before bouncing off into a crumbled heap on the floor. 

"Blair?" Jim took one second to assess the damage before gathering Blair into his arms. 

Blair dissolved into angry tears. "That wasn't necessary." He sobbed against the frantic heart beating inside the solid wall beneath his cheek. "What took you so long?" 

Jim stoked his fingers through Blair's hair. "Sorry, love. I must be getting slow in my old age." 

Blair weakly punched him in the shoulder. "Not old!" He mumbled. 

Jim chuckled. "OK, tough guy." 

Blair sobbed again. "Almost had it under control." 

"I know you did. Shhh, it's all right now." 

"Patronizing!" 

"No, imp, I've seen you in action before, remember? I know what you can do. He didn't stand a chance." 

"Seemed so nice! Was so tired! Said I could come up here. Listen to music. Said he'd tell you! Put something in coffee. Didn't know, Jim." 

"I know, Chief. Shhh." Jim pulled away and began straightening and refastening his clothes. "Let's get you fixed so we can get you home." 

Blair tried to button his shirt. "Told him, no! Told him, NO! Told how I feel bout you!" 

Jim finished buttoning Blair's shirt and stood him up to tuck it in his pants and fasten them. "Maybe he did it because you did tell him no, babe." He took Blair's shoes and slipped them on his feet. 

"No! Did it to make him," He glanced over at Choate, "jealous! Didn't want to hurt me. Had stopped. . .was helping with clothes. . ." Big, watery eyes searched his for an answer, reassurances. "So sorry, Jim." 

Jim gently took his lover's hands in his. "You don't have anything to be sorry about. You understand me?" 

Blair gave a hiccuping sob, but nodded. 

Jim turned his back to him to slide his coat on. 

"Feel so. . .stupid!" He looked at Jim with great sadness in his eyes. 

Jim pulled Blair back against him and whispered in his ear. "I know where this is going. You can just stop it right now! There's nothing this little cretin can do to change the way I feel about you! I will ALWAYS want you. Nothing will ever change that." He whispered in his ear. "When we get home, I'll show you just how much." 

They started for the door. 

"Paddy." Justin voice was muffled and petulant. "Call security, I want him arrested." 

Jim stopped, Blair wrapped restraining arms around his waist, burying his face against Jim's back. "No, Jim, please, want to go home." 

"He drugged you,Chief. Tried to rape you." 

Blair began pulling him toward the door. "No, Jim. . . he had stopped! Swear!" 

Jim opened the door but paused at the sound of Choate's voice. 

"Detective Ellison, he didn't mean any harm." 

Jim turned slipping into full Blessed Protector mode. "He would've caused it whether he meant to or not, Choate. He's done this kind of thing before, hasn't he?" Jim watched the grimace. 

"Seduce them, yes. He never hurt anybody." 

"That depends on how you define hurt. If he'd finished what he'd started. . ." 

"I'm not a rapist! Blair, tell him!" 

Jim took a step back in the room. "I don't care what you call it, anyone who doesn't take no for an answer is a rapist!" Then to Choate, "And I wouldn't have been responsible for what I'd have done to him." 

Jim noted the way Choate stroked Justin's hair, held the handkerchief to his bloody nose. The way Justin clung to Choate, snuggling into his embrace. "You ever think one of the reasons he does this is to get somebody's attention?" 

"I don't follow." 

"Maybe its time daddy took some interest in his son." 

Edward shook his head. "The Councilor's too busy with his. . ." 

"Then *you'd* better check him, now, before he does something daddy's money can't get him out of." 

"Paddy, stop him! Did you see what he did to me?" 

Choate touched gentle fingers to Evers lips to silence him. "I told you to leave them alone, Justin. You can't have everything you want." Then to Jim. "What do you expect me to do, I'm just the hired help." 

"From what I can see, you're a lot more than you think. If Blair is right, and all this is to make you jealous, you're half way there. And if you love him as much as I think you do, make him take responsibility for his actions. Because if you don't, I will. And I guarantee neither of you will like it." 

Evers pushed the fingers away from his mouth. "Paddy, I said. . ." 

Choate made a decision. "Shut up, Justin." 

The young man pulled back from the embrace to stare at him disbelievingly. "What did you say to me?" 

Jim gathered Blair tight up against him and left the room, closing the door, as best he could, behind him. 

"Owww, what do you think you're doing?" 

"You and I are going to have a *serious* talk." 

"Paddy, let go of me! That hurts! Paddy!" 

There was a long pause. "Don't you dare! My father'll have your job! Paddy, no!" 

By the time Jim and Blair got on the elevator, there was a wide smile on Jim's face. 

Blair looked up. "Something funny?" 

Jim hugged him close. "I think the Councilor's aide has Justin's full attention now." 

Blair nestled into Jim's warmth. "Is it good?" 

"Lover, I'm tempted to take you back so you can enjoy the show." 

Blair yawned hugely. "I'd rather go home." 

"Then home it is. But you don't know what you're missing."  
  


* * *

  


Jim wrapped up the business downstairs quickly, bid Simon a fond farewell and literally carried Blair out to the truck. He curled up in his seat and immediately when to sleep. 

Once home, he woke up enough to help Jim get him up the steps into the loft. Once inside Jim supported most of his weight as he helped him up the stairs to their bedroom. He started to put him to bed. 

"No." Blair clutched at him. 

"Not now, babe, we're both dead on our feet." 

"Shower. . ." 

"It can wait 'til morning." 

"Please, Jim." 

"Ok, Chief. OK." 

Jim undressed him tenderly, leaving both their tux on the hooks behind the door. Blair tried to help, to stay with him, but drifted in and out. Jim held him close, supporting his weight with his free hand, his head against his shoulder as he started the water. Then stepped under the warm spray and drew Blair with him. 

Blair leaned up against Jim while he soaped them both down quickly. "Feels. . .so. . . good." 

"Come on, love, almost done. Hold on to me so I can do your hair, before we both drown." 

Blair managed to cling to Jim long enough to finish. A quick dry off and they crawled into bed. 

Jim draped Blair across his chest and hugged him close. 

"Jim. . ." Blair murmured. ". . .so sorry." 

Jim moved his hair aside and kissed the back of his neck. "Stop saying that! If you have to apologize, save it for Councilor Evers if I ever see his son again." He stroked comforting fingers through the drying curls. "Now, you go to sleep." 

Blair burrowed deeper in the solid warmth of Jim's body. ". . . breakfast in bed?" 

"Doubt we'll wake up in time for breakfast, Chief. And remember the last time we had food in bed?" 

Blair giggled. ". . .creative use. . . for honey." 

"I didn't think the sheets would ever come clean." Jim moaned as he pressed his forehead against Blair's. "I'll never look at that poor bear bottle quite the same again." 

Blair giggled again, "I. . . get. . .pampered?" The second word came out in a drowsy purr. 

"Talk about an opportunist. I guess I can manage to spoil you, a little. Just don't get too comfortable with it!" 

Jim felt Blair smile against his chest. He yawned before drifting off to sleep. 

Blair woke in bed alone. Before he could panic, he noticed the note and the rose on Jim's pillow. 

>   
>  Hey, love.  
>  We slept all day. Woke up starving.  
>  (Check your left cheek.)  
> 

Blair touched his face. Nothing, then noticed the itch/burn. He hopped out of bed and checked his ass in the mirror. In the center of his left cheek was a deep red love bite in the almost perfect shape of a heart. ('How does he DO that? When did he do that? Why didn't I feel it?') He went back to the note. 

> Tried to wake you (find it yet?). If you slept through that, you definitely needed more sleep. Going to the deli for food. (Whose turn was it to shop?) Deal with you when I get back. . . 
> 
> J 

Shit! Shit! Shit! The possibilities of *that* sentence! Blair felt a tingle up his spine as he hurried to grab a shower and brush his teeth before Jim returned. 

Jim found him sitting at the kitchen table, fresh from the shower, still damp hair, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a smile. 

"When we finish eating, we're gonna have that talk about setting priorities, Chief." 

"Sure. Can't wait." 

"I know you can't." He put the bag on the table. 

"What's in the bag?" 

Jim fished inside. "Potato salad, or slaw?" 

"Slaw." Blair took the cup handed to him. "Did you get extra pickles?" He asked hopefully. 

Jim laid the bundle next to the cup of slaw. 

"Thanks." He rewarded Jim with a dazzling smile. 

Jim's sandwich was a foot long monster with three kinds of meat and four toppings. He put two large cups of soda on the table. 

"Where's my sandwich?" 

Jim put the wrapped package in front of Blair and sat. 

Blair unwrapped it and looked between the thick bread. "Tongue? *You* bought me a tongue sandwich? When did our regular deli start stocking sliced tongue?" 

Jim washed the bite of sandwich down with a gulp of soda. "Never." 

"So, how far did you have to go to get tongue?" 

Jim just smiled wickedly and replied in a voice guaranteed to raise body temperatures, "All the way, lover." 

Blair blushed bright red. Putting his sandwich up to his mouth, he mumbled wryly. "Eat your sandwich, Blair." 

Jim laughed out loud and went back to eating.  
  


* * *

  


They had just finished cleaning up when someone knocked on the door. Jim answered. 

"Hello, Detective Ellison." 

"What do you want?" 

"Can I come in?" 

"I meant what I said Friday, about taking you to jail." 

"Jim?" Blair came around the doorway. "Justin." 

"Hi, Blair. Can I come in? I have something important to say to the two of you." He waited. "Please?" 

Blair put his hand on Jim's arm. "Let him in." 

"But Blair. . ." 

"It's all right, Jim." 

Justin stepped into the room. Jim closed the door behind him. 

"Talk fast, Evers." 

He held out a large, dark bottle with a brightly colored ribbon tied around its slender neck. 

"What's this?" 

"Wine. I hope you two drink wine. It's a really good vintage." 

"Is this some kind of joke, Evers? If it is, it isn't funny." 

"No. No, detective. What I'm trying to say. . .I'm trying to apologize for what. . . happened. . . for what almost happened Friday at the gala." He turned to Blair. "I'm sorry, but when I saw you, you were just so damn gorgeous. I *had* to have you, just for a little while." 

"It would've been fine, Justin, if I'd been free. You should've at least *asked* me first." 

"Yeah." He nodded. "That's another thing that made you so intriguing. You didn't want me. Everyone wants me, or at least, no one has ever said no to me before. No one but Paddy, and I hardly ever paid any attention to him." 

"Where *is* Choate? Does he know you're here?" 

Justin's cheeks tinged pink. 

"No, Paddy doesn't know I'm here. In fact, he thought it was a bad idea. He wanted to talk to you first. Smooth the way, so to speak, or at lease make sure I wouldn't die." A small smile lit his face briefly. The he grew solemn once again. "But if I'm going to take this responsibility thing seriously. . ." He paused, looking every young and uncertain. "I hope he's not pissed when he finds out." 

"Don't tell him." 

"Way bad move, detective. Paddy finds out everything. I'd rather tell him. I hope that he won't be as angry as he was Friday. I don't ever want him that mad at me again." 

Justin absent-mindedly tossed his hair over his shoulder and Jim saw the mark on his neck just above his collarbone. He smiled. 

"That's a very nasty-looking mark you got on your neck there, Evers." 

He touched the spot, quickly covering it again with his hair. He blushed for the second time. 

"You want to file a report with the police department? 

The blush deepened. "I don't think so." 

"So it didn't come from an act of violence?" 

"No." 

"Choate?" 

To Blair's surprise, a dopey smile lit up Justin's face. "Yeah." 

Blair looked questioningly at Jim who mouthed, monster hickey'. 

"Any way. Blair, Detective Ellison, I just wanted to apologize and say if there's *any*thing I can do, anything, please let me know. OK?" 

"So, this kind of thing won't be happening again." 

"No, it won't. Believe me. Paddy and I had a long talk. One I don't ever want to experience again. So, thank you, again I'm sorry." 

And he was gone. 

"Wonder what Paddy said to him? Whatever it was, it seemed to make quite an impression." 

Jim laughed out loud. "I'm sure it did, Chief." Then he grew serious as he began move toward Blair. "Now, if I remember correctly, I promised us a buffet . . ." 

"But we just ate! You can't still be hungry!" 

"Starving! Come here. . ." 

Blair backed toward the stairs. "Just one question. . .At this banquet, will there be tongue?" 

Jim pounced. 

"Owww, Jim! That's so not. . .Sssssst! Ohhhh!"  
  


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